Giving Up
by cruelistnightmare
Summary: "Papa?" "I'm so sorry Mathieu. I'm so sorry." Giving up his little Mathieu just might break him.


"What?" France was aghast. How could his king tell him this?

"You heard me the first time France. We can no longer afford to keep New France." The king ran a delicate hand over his face. He could tell this was going to get difficult.

"But, but…my king, we cannot give up New France! He is merely a boy, and he means so much to me. We've been fighting to long to give up!" he cried out. Mathieu is everything to him! How can he show his majesty that it would break his heart if he gave him up?

"Exactly. We've been fighting for too long. Much too long. The land is useless to us. We have to give him up. I know you have grown close to the boy, but please understand. It is too much for us." The king looked up to the taller man, willing him to understand. But France didn't, no quite the opposite.

"But, your majesty, please, maybe there is another way, just please don't make me give up Mathieu!" France yelled. He grabbed the king's cloak. "Please, please, don't make me give him away! He is the best thing that has happened to me since the 1490s! You cannot make me—"

"Enough! Enough, France. We cannot keep him, and that's that. The boy has to go. Forgive me." The king turned his back. The personification of France let go with shaking hands. His heart was aching, eyes shiny with unshed tears. "But…" The king continued on to the door and opened it.

"Forgive me Francis. Forgive me." He walked out. France put up a shaky hand up to his eyes. He finally let the tears fall. Letting out a choking sob, he fell to his knees. Everything he felt was let out in those fiery, extremely angry, tears. Mathieu, his poor little Mathieu. His child, his innocent, sweet child. How could anyone want to give him away?

"Mathieu…" Please don't make me give him up….please….

—:—

"Papa?" Canada looked up to his protector. His eyes were red, and he was shaking. Little Canada has never seen his papa like this. "Are you alright?" France knelt down to Canada, giving him a tight hug. Canada hugged as best he could with his little arms. "Papa?"

"Mathieu…" France choked out. His tears came out steadily, with no hint of stopping. He should be strong, darn it! "Mathieu, my child…"

"Papa, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Canada was beginning to get scared. France only hugged him harder. Knocks sounded at the door, before opening to reveal a man shorter than France, with big, bushy eyebrows.

"I've come to pick him up." France only dug his head into Canada's shoulder. Canada's eyes widened.

"What?" France let out a choked sob, before detaching himself from the child. France grabbed Canada's shoulders at arm's length. Tears were at full force. "Mathieu…"

"Papa, what's going on? Who is he? What has he come to pick up?" France merely shook his head, unable to speak without turning to a blubbering mess.

"I am Great Britain, or England. You belong to me now, little one. Please come along." The man, England, put a hand out for the child to grab. Canada's eyes filled with tears, and looked up to his Papa for confirmation. His hero merely nodded, arms now covering up his face.

"But…but…why? Did I do something wrong, Papa? Was I being a bad child, and that's why you are giving me away? If it was because I didn't put my things away, I did it while you were away! Please, don't give me away! I'll always be a good boy, but please, please, don't give me away!" Canada ran to his papa and grabbed his leg, tears soaking them. "Please, please Papa!" France dropped to his knees and hugged him as hard as he could possibly could without hurting the child.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Mathieu. I'm so sorry." France kept chanting the same phrase over and over again. After a minute, he let go and placed a small kiss to Canada's forehead. "I'm so sorry…" He finally let go and England walked toward them.

"Come along lad…" England gently grabbed little Canada's hand, starting to pull him away. Canada was looking at France with hurt in his eyes. "Come along…" England looked down at France. Using his other hand, he put a hand on his shoulder, as if it was some sort of apology.

Then with Canada in hand, he walked out the door, gently closing it.

France cried.


End file.
